This Path Has Lost Direction
by torncorpse
Summary: A walk through Season 2 and the developments in Sam's relationship with Dean. Spoilers throughout Season 2.


This Path Has Lost Direction

The first time Dean kissed him was Wisconsin, still in the damn fun house with the colours and music and that damn organ. Dean had just pushed up against Sam, his back hitting the wooden frame behind him, and kissed him. It couldn't even be brushed off, a peck on the lips or brush of lips to lips. Dean didn't do anything by half. It was tongue on tongue and Sam had moaned, had enjoyed it, had craved more.

But Dean had pulled away and walked out, leaving Sam to catch his breath and figure out what way was up. The tingling in his lips didn't stop, it was still there when they argued at Bobby's, it was still there the next day when Dean refused to look at him.

The next time Dean touched Sam was to punch him. Right across the jaw and he was left reeling. Bringing up Dad always got Dean emotional, more so now that dad was gone. When Dean finally opened to up Sam, on a back road out of Greenville, Illinois, he was left with nothing to say that would reach into the emotional pain that Dean was lost to. Telling Dean that he was glad Dean was alive would just rile him up, making twist the words to mean something different. But Sam was torn, seeing Dean so lost. It was hard not to blame Dad for doing this.

After everything with Andy had happened, Sam found himself being kissed by Dean again. In the hotel bathroom, pressed against the sink, Dean kissed him like there was no tomorrow and Sam felt some of his worries fall away. Dean had held fast, their hips rocking together slightly and lips moving against one another. Sam had gripped the back of Dean's head like he'd be ripped away if he didn't, Dean pressed into Sam as if they could move into the one being, and Sam felt at peace for those few marginal moments. But Dean had pulled away, told Sam to take a shower, get some rest, and then he left the room. Sam turned the water as hot as he could handle to wash away the tingling, instead his skin just burned.

It was like there was a brick wall between them from there on. Working with Jo was tense and uncomfortable; not just being they had to work as a threesome and it threw both brothers for a loop, but because Dean was distancing himself and Sam was starting to feel empty again. In Baltimore it didn't feel as bad, they were back on their game, gelled and working like a well oiled machine. But the Crossroad Demon threw them back to that unknown territory again. The idea that Dad was suffering, his soul trapped in hell after everything they'd done, all the demons they'd stopped, the people they'd saved, it was harder on Dean than Sam liked. The idea that Dean was tempted to make his own deal, to bring their Dad back and lose his own soul, no matter how long away, it left Sam feeling a deep sense of dread and the distance was so much more then. Finding out that Dean had kept secrets, that Dad had told Dean he'd have to kill Sam, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, and Sam had felt the need to leave. Dean was willing to die for Sam, but Sam wasn't willing to let Dean die for him. If that damn demon disease taught him anything it was that.

Finding Ava, discovering that there was others like him who hadn't lost their parents, it confused things so much more. Finding out that someone wanted to blow him up wasn't so strange. How Gordon found anything out Sam would never know, but in its own way it nearly fixed things between him and Dean.

Dean had insisted on cleaning Sam's face before they moved on, sitting him in the hotel room and carefully cleaning every scrape and cut. It wasn't as bad as Dean seemed to think, but Sam decided to humour him this once. With his face suitably cleaned Dean had moved in and kissed him again, hands moving over his shoulders and down, as if making sure that he was in one piece. Sam practically clung to Dean, needed to feel the closeness, needing to feel Dean there, and real. They'd ended up on the bed, Sam missing his shirt and Dean losing his on the way. The skin to skin was glorious, chest to chest as Dean continued to possess his mouth. Sam ran his hands over every inch of Dean's skin that he could, up his arms, across his chest, down his back. It didn't feel like it would ever be enough.

When Dean pulled his jeans open, taking Sam's straining erection in his hand and stroking, Sam all but yelled Dean's name. The moan turning to a groan turning to a whimper as Dean working his hand up and down Sam's length, twisting just right and trailing his thumb over the head. Sam had struggled to get Dean's jeans open, moving just right to get his hand in Dean's boxers and curl his long fingers around Dean's cock. Working with his left hand was difficult, maintaining the rhythm while keeping the cast on his right arm out of the way caused a few stumbles. But Dean tightened his grip on Sam's cock, hips jerking into Sam's grip and they both came together. Dean's mouth pressed into Sam's shoulder to muffle the groan, Sam's mouth hanging open with a silent cry falling from his lips.

They had just laid there for minutes, breathing slowly returning to normal, their exhaustion slowly catching up with them. Dean had been the first to move, leaving and heading to the bathroom. Sam had just tried to bury everything. But the whole thing had brought to the forefront of his mind something he'd tried to bury and hide long ago.

He was in love with his older brother.

And then they were FBI fugitives, and then there were angels and then he was possessed. It was weird, seeing some of the stuff he'd done, watching his body kill and hurt people when he just wanted it to stop. It had taken everything in him to stop himself from killing Jo. The demon wanted to, wanted to slit her throat right there in front of Dean, show his brother what could happen. He may not entirely like Jo, but Sam refused to be the cause of Ellen's pain. And then he'd shot his brother. Not knowing if Dean was dead was horrid, on the trip to Bobby's having that taunting bitch make him think that Dean was dead, thinking he'd killed his brother. He half hoped Bobby would just kill him.

The exorcism was blurring, he remembered flashes of hot pain, burning under his skin, and then he was on the floor, arm a blistering hot ache and then punched him. The first time things felt remotely close to normal was in the car, Dean making jokes and Sam struggled not to enjoy it.

He had thought things were getting back to where they should be, where they would've been. But the Trickster messed things up, neither of them knew why the other was just so annoying, the thought of Dean even just touching him irritated Sam, all the while all he wanted was to feel Dean against him. Figuring it out, with more than a little help from Bobby threw things in perspective, and Sam felt the need to apologise. Not just for the last few days, but for the last year. Even if he couldn't convey it in words, Dean seemed to pick up on it.

By the time they had found the Highway 41 job they were back to normal, or as normal as possible. All the tension of the last few weeks just fell away. The jokes were easy and they worked the job like any other. Watching as Molly let go, seeing her go to rest, it left Sam hope that maybe there was a better place for rested spirits. That Molly was at peace, the same way he hoped Jess and his Mom were, and hopefully one day his Dad.

Meeting Madison was a blessing and a curse in one. They'd seen the bad side of these monsters, but seeing that there was a person, a well adjusted, beautiful and smart person, behind that monster, it cut Sam to the core. Madison was like Jess. Beautiful and smart and funny. It would've been so easy to want more with her, to want so much more. And she knew what he did; she'd seen it first hand. Ending it had been hard and a bit of him died that day.

He'd thrown himself into finding a hunt, into something to stop. A demon, a monster, a ghost. He didn't want another person. Dean was right, demons he could get, but people were just plain crazy. Why would anyone want to control ghosts? To call back these poor souls and trap them, use them. Walter wasn't a bad person, he was just confused. The hurt that had been in him since San Francisco had melted a little, instead he felt a red hot fury as he'd caught Dean leaving Tara's trailer. Masking the entire thing had proved hard, but walking away, knowing that Dean would leave with him helped some what.

And then they were in jail. Green River County Detention Centre threw a lot of things into focus for Sam. One thing was that Dean watched far too many movies. Another being that Dean was far too comfortable with being in jail. Getting out and getting the nurses bones burnt was enough for Sam to deal with, the realisation that this was probably it, they were really well and truly wanted men now, hit Sam hard. Normal life was completely over, no matter what happened. Even when they found the demon, even when the killed it, it wouldn't be over. They'd be running forever.

When Dean went after the Jinn on his own, not giving Sam a chance to back him up and then disappearing altogether it was like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown over his head. Finding Dean was all that he could think about, blind panic driving him beyond exhaustion. And then finally seeing him, hanging there with his life draining away, Sam's blood had run cold. He'd thought for a few short seconds that Dean was gone; that he was dead and this hell hole had been the last place he'd known. Sam couldn't even stay mad at Dean when all he could feel was relief at him just being alive.

They were in the hotel, trying to recover from Dean's dream like wish. It would be nice, having Jess and Mom back, but at what cost? They'd sat there for a while and then both moved, Dean moving to go outside and Sam moving to go to the bathroom. Blocking each others paths and just standing in front of one another. It had been a blur of movement after that. Dean's hands in his hair, pulling Sam's head down for a kiss, Sam's hands on Dean's hips, pulling their bodies close. Lips and tongues pressed together, hands just touching. Clothes fell away and Sam had landed on the bed first, Dean covering his body quickly, their skin heated and smooth against each other. Dean's mouth on Sam's throat and neck and chest, tongue tasting and biting at Sam's skin. Sam arched under Dean, hands pulling at Dean's head, moving down to his neck and back.

When Dean moved down, taking Sam's erection in his mouth, tongue trailing over the underside, hand stroking at the base as Dean bobbed his head, Sam groaned loudly, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other clinging to Dean's head. His fingers trailed through the styled hair, unable to get any purchase Sam just settled for gripping to the back of Dean's head. Then suddenly the heat was gone and Dean was hovering over Sam, lips to lips. When Sam felt the pressure of his cock slowly being pressed to Dean's ass he pulled back, watching Dean's face as he slowly sank onto Sam's cock. The tight heat was as excruciating as it was blissful. Dean's low groan rumbled through his chest and Sam reached an arm up to stroke at Dean's chest while the other wrapped around his hips.

Dean pressed until he was completely seated on Sam's cock, straddling Sam's waist and leaning forward slightly to steady himself on Sam's chest. Giving time to adjust, Sam just continued petted Dean's chest, before Dean slowly started to shift, rising slightly before sinking back down, rocking his hips as he did and taking Sam deeper. Sam's head fell back into the pillow, muscles straining to move, desperate to pound into Dean. The heat was all consuming, the tightness of Dean's body draining all the worry and pain away until all that remained was Dean and Sam and just the pure _need_. Dean's movements increased and Sam moved to take Dean's cock in hand, stroking in time with Dean's thrusts before it just wasn't enough and Sam had to arch up, meeting Dean's strokes. When Dean's brow frowned in concentration, lips between his teeth as he worked himself on Sam's cock, Sam needed more. Surging up Sam pushed Dean down, lips pressing to Dean's and tongues tangling as Sam got Dean's legs hooked up by his elbows, giving Sam just the right leverage to push into Dean and catch that spot, getting Dean right on the prostate.

Dean gripped to Sam's shoulders, moans lost against Sam's mouth as they kissed messily, tongues and teeth and nothing else, just want and need. Sam's thrusts were erratic, shallow then deep and hard. Dean arched up and cried out Sam's name, his ass clenching around Sam's cock as he spilled over Sam's hand. It was probably the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen, and it only took moments before Sam came, moaning into Dean's mouth and hoping it would last just that little longer, wanting to hold onto the moment for as long as possible.

They ended up sleeping in the one single bed, Dean behind Sam, arms over Sam's chest, Dean's head in the crook of Sam's shoulder and neck, their legs a tangle of limbs under the bed covers. It was by no means easy, but Sam hadn't slept so peacefully for ages.

And then all hell broke loose. And Sam really doesn't know where that puts them. Dean with a devil's deal and a year to live, Sam torn between gratefulness and desolation. But they're still together. And that has to count for something, doesn't it?

- - -

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean, or Sam or anything they do in their spare time. I made no money from this.


End file.
